The Memory of Marianne
by slytherin-punk-rocker311
Summary: based on Sense and Sensibility-dedicated to the incredible Alan Rickman (DONE)
1. Sarah Meets Brandon

Sarah looked around the huge plantation, her curly long blond hair (nearly perfect gold) blowing behind her in the refreshing English summer breeze. Her hands were ringless and clasped at her waist, her slim, untrained body cloaked in spring sunshine robin's-egg blue and trimmed with lace. She wore no bonnet; instead her hair was tied back partially in an elegantly undone twist. Her hazel eyes were dark but inviting, blazing with a genuine warmth. Her calm was interrupted by quarreling female voices behind her.  
  
"Elinor-" "No buts. He has asked to see her." "Elinor, I want to go with Edward! Can't we show Sarah the green hillsides?" That one was younger, and vibrant. "Edward." "What?" "Nothing.now, be nice! It has been a while. Ladylike, Margaret." Elinor added teasingly. She heard a low growl, then turned. The tallest of three sisters, dressed in faded maroon, addressed her.  
  
"Sarah, dear. This is the house of a young colonel named Christopher Brandon." "Isn't it lovely?" Margaret piped up. "Yes, well.she hasn't seen the garden yet, Margie." Edward added-he knew the nickname irked the youngest so. "Who is this Colonel Brandon?" Edward looked up. "You'll see." Margaret said, and took Sarah's hand. "Come on, he's expecting us!" She led the group all the way up the hill and to the oak double doors. "Here we are." She knocked, hard.  
  
A moment later, a tall man dressed in dark colors with blondish-brown short hair answered. "Mr. and Mrs. Ferrars. Ah, and young Miss Dashwood too.but who is this?" His charming gaze fell upon Sarah, his manner lighthearted and interesting. "This is Sarah-she is staying with us, but we simply haven't enough." Margaret began-there went her big mouth, always right on time. "I suppose you'd like me to take her in? I haven't much at the moment to spare you, and certainly not ample as to treat this lady." He smiled, but it was fast, and Sarah barely caught it in time to return it. "Well." "Of course, I'm delighted. I haven't had visitors since you all last summer." His voice seemed to lose its appeal, and she felt pity for something she had no news of. "Well, let me see where I can put you.Sarah?" She nodded. "Ah. Well, I'll see you lot at dinner this evening." Elinor smiled comfortably. "Seven on the dime, the Jennings's cottage." She chuckled. "Quite a cottage, Sarah, I can't wait to show you." Sarah nodded and smiled. 


	2. White Curtains

Sarah had to admit, the young colonel who opened the door was very handsome. His blue eyes captured the setting sunlight that framed the group behind her and his hair was a naturally rich shade of blond-brown. Gray pieces hinted at the edges, but what did she care? She was tired of being alone. None of the party had hinted at whether he was available for her, not really. She let him kiss her hand and nearly thought she'd faint.  
  
He took to her side almost immediately as they strode through the mansion. As Mrs. Jennings rambled about politics with Elinor's husband up ahead, the Colonel took to showing her little details he'd put into his sanctuary, like etchings in the corners near huge windows and hemming on the white curtains. She was fascinated, perhaps more by him than these. Any girl could have fancy white curtains.  
  
When they took to lunch Margaret got up from the table early. "Say, Sarah, I can't possibly wait another second to show you the gardens." She grabbed Sarah's hand and led her regretfully away from the Colonel. "My sister Marianne used to love coming here. Almost died once-she got caught in the rain." This was grave and ill-mentioned, Sarah thought to herself. "Brandon saved her." Wait-an important detail, now. Perhaps had her Brandon (as she so fondly called him when alone, which should be noted was rarely) loved this beautiful, sickly Marianne? Clearly as she lay on her deathbed, to strengthen the poison. "Marianne always said it wouldn't rain, and of course it always did. Twisted her ankle once, I was there, and Willoughby saved her that time.." She continued, giggling inappropriately here and there, and Sarah could tell she was a thing for gossip but paid her no mind, absorbed in her own thoughts. She didn't even catch the bit Margaret was currently releasing about this heroic new attachment named Willoughby.  
  
At last they finished frolicking together in the gardens and returned to Delaford, just in time for dinner. Sarah held her breath as the Colonel took his seat next to her (with as much poise as his prize stallion). He proceeded to take her attention the entire meal, whether they spoke of politics (both of them had little view on such a petty social issue) or horseback riding, or whatever either of them wanted to discuss next (there was no disagreement).  
  
Sometime around sunrise the remainder of the group which had not retired after dinner (Margaret, foolish child, and the Jennings', and of course the two we've been discussing this entire chapter) decided to bed. With much vigor in her heart Sarah ascended to her chambers, but the valiant, dashing Brandon retrieved her elbow before she was quite out of reach. "My dear, I'd be delighted if you'd join me for a ride tomorrow, because you have a fervor for horses as I do, and I'd like to show you more of the grounds." Giggling and blushing girlishly, she could not hide her smile. "Why, yes, Colonel, that would be lovely." And the both of them bedded at last with nearly alike thoughts of the coming days ahead dancing in their hearts. 


	3. Brandon's Walk

The next morning the Colonel had woken to discover his horse had broken its ankle during a wake-up run with some of the servants, and informed his young friend Sarah of this as she joined him for a late breakfast (or perhaps an early lunch). She wasn't too displeased, as this gave them an excuse for getting home later due to a long walk.  
  
Dressed in his usual black Brandon led her out on his left arm to the luxurious garden path and for a while they talked simply of the delicate April weather and the rainfall expected to ruin it this evening. She noted that his eyes couldn't take themselves off her, but unlike previous suitors (what few she had due to her shy nature) they were focused on her face, more specifically her eyes. He never once looked at any other part of her, nor at his feet, mainly because there was no lack of conversation or common ground.  
  
During this period Sarah discovered that there had in fact been a Mrs. Marianne Brandon at some point but that she was now deceased and he was clearly avoiding it. She tried to steer the conversation back into a more favorable topic in his defense. "Have you lived at Delaford long?" "It was my grandfather's originally, but during the war it was taken and so my father did not own it. I had it restored and I've resided here ever since." He wasn't being as short with her here, and she eased the commute further with a sweet smile.  
  
Sometime around the seventh hour the sun began to set over the greenery, and he took her arm to lead her back down the path to the house. "I do believe I'll go over to the stables and see if my horse is suitable to go riding with Mr. Ferrars at dawn." "Yes, but it is late, and I do believe the pianoforte is in use so I think it is due time to retire." He nodded, agreeable, and the thick silence further engorged itself as they stood together, shifty-eyed and shuffling their feet awkwardly. "Sarah-" the Colonel suddenly said, but he didn't continue. Out of nowhere his lips met hers in the gathering darkness, and she took in the fullness of his kiss, the light fingers playing at her skin, tangling voluntarily in her blonde locks, but before she knew it he was stumbling toward the stables after his stallion and she was heading upstairs, looking forward to a blissfully dreamy night. 


	4. All You Wanted

The next morning, Mr. Jennings pretty much had the Colonel cornered in the drawing room. The sun streamed in through the wide windows and alighted over his hands-it was a beautiful day-but he seemed content to stay in, at least for now.  
  
"My, I wish I could have seen more of the air Miss Sarah carried yesterday evening, Colonel. Really, what magic did you work on her while walking in the garden?"  
  
Brandon shook his head. "It does spread like wildfire around here, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yes, yes, of course, thanks to my beloved Mrs. Jennings, as always."  
  
"What is she singing about this time?"  
  
"Only this: when Sarah went up to bed you could still see stars in her eyes."  
  
"I imagine it was a good dinner."  
  
"Please, Brandon, don't be foolish. We know you've done something."  
  
"Well-"  
  
"I do believe you've taken a fancy to her youth and beauty, that is impossible to hide. And I don't doubt she's found nothing unappealing about yourself." He smiled broadly from behind the Colonel, and therefore Brandon found it difficult not to return it.  
  
Instead he became lost in a fantasy land, and he remembered the day his love Marianne had fallen and a young, dashing Willoughby had saved her instead of him. Even after the wounds had healed she still coveted his attentions, and he realized he'd been blind to her turning away from his own. Even after he had broken her she'd still been wounded by the rainfall that had carried her out once more to see her true love. That, he knew, had been the cause of her deterioration, where her sickness was healed on the outside but her immune system and her heart were still very much in a state of false recovery. The summer after they wed he lost her to acute influenza. Funny, he thought, how Marianne would love to walk so that she'd always say it wouldn't rain, and of course it did. The rain had never done much for his arthritis-he could feel himself getting old-so he'd never much accompanied his bride on these expeditions. She'd loved the rain so.  
  
This brought him to a place where he was younger, in his late twenties, and he'd fallen for her so easily, just like he'd fallen for Eliza. Eliza's daughter had stayed with him for a while-she'd been dark-haired and untamed, not at all like shy, fair Sarah-and hadn't been much company. He'd missed having a lady to spend his fortune on and pamper.  
  
He concluded that perhaps Sarah would be his last chance to fall in love. She was beautiful, yes, and carried herself well, but she was cultured, and so much more. He knew she was young and he'd been more lonely of late than ever, since he'd met this unique beauty. Although he felt Mr. Jennings spoke the truth, he didn't know how long she'd stay.  
  
At last Mr. Jennings left the Colonel to his thoughts and met Elinor in the hallway outside. "Your wife is inquiring after Brandon's quiet rarities of gossip." She whispered lightheartedly. "Yes, I do believe gentlemen prefer blondes." He replied with a smile 


	5. Willoughby's Good

Sarah woke up with the sun and discovered peachy-colored roses on her bedside table beside her half-empty glass of champagne. She didn't have to spend her morning routine wondering who they were from, and this comforted her. She put on her favorite old white dress and went downstairs, just in time for tea with the other ladies.  
  
Mrs. Jennings wondered at the pleased smile on her face and reminded her that the gentlemen had been out hunting in the country all weekend. "Well, perhaps it is due to the weather, for it is not raining today." Elinor tried, nudging her to keep shut, and covering Margaret's giggles. But Sarah had tired of this old routine. Perhaps Elinor could keep her love in her heart, but Sarah hadn't ever had the chance to show anything off before.  
  
"I do believe the flowers on my table are from the Colonel."  
  
"Flowers?" Mrs. Jennings squealed, clapping her hands excitedly.  
  
Elinor looked pained at this. "From the Colonel, Sarah?"  
  
"I believe so."  
  
"There was no card?"  
  
"None."  
  
"Oh, this is so wonderfully exciting!" Mrs. Jennings giggled.  
  
Elinor suddenly envisioned her sister on her deathbed, soaked in sweat.  
  
"Excuse me, ladies, but I believe myself I promised Margaret a croquet lesson this fine morning, if it did not rain."  
  
"Elinor, please, no you didn't." Margaret pleaded, but Elinor firmly seized her wrist and led her out into the garden.  
  
This left Mrs. Jennings to her gossipy, interested stares. Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her velvet seat.  
  
That evening it did rain, and the men returned at dinnertime (nothing was caught, with the exception of a young buck at the hands of Mr. Jennings). Sarah nervously decided to take her seat next to Brandon, who couldn't help but wonder still about her gift. Had she guessed? Of course, she was a smart girl. Especially by the way she smiled continuously at him.  
  
Sarah entertained them all with a nice pianoforte, and Elinor took notice of the Colonel's avid attention to her fingers as they danced across the keys. Sarah was so focused on the song (she'd only just learned it) that she didn't notice when Elinor took him out into the hall, ignoring her husband's curiousity.  
  
"Colonel, really, wasn't it a bit much? Tell me, were they red?"  
  
"P-Pardon?" He said, playing a good game of confusion with her.  
  
"The color of romance, surely a gentleman would realize that."  
  
"Elinor-I-"  
  
"I thought you loved my sister-do you not remember Marianne?"  
  
"Elinor, your sister died in my arms. She was far too spirited and independent for me-for anyone. She was never happy with my nature."  
  
"Of course she was! The fields you had for her to run in-"  
  
"She needed someone younger, who could live her life. She needed Willoughby."  
  
"What good did Willoughby ever do to her?"  
  
"He set her free, of course." Brandon replied, as he re-entered the room. 


	6. Two Conversations

Elinor had had it with the Colonel, and she decided she had no choice but to go talk to Sarah herself about the situation with her dead sister's husband.  
  
She met the platinum blonde in the entrance hall early that afternoon and politely asked her for a walk through the Colonel's lovely gardens. Sarah did not decline. As they walked, however, she noticed an unusual unease about her older friend, and perhaps one about herself.  
  
"Excuse me, Elinor.but perhaps this occasion was called specially?"  
  
"Sarah? Well.yes.you see."  
  
"What is it, Elinor? Is something wrong?"  
  
"Truth be told, yes, there is, Sarah, dear. You see, I did tell you that your friend Brandon was once married to my sister, Marianne."  
  
"Yes, of course, Elinor."  
  
"Perhaps did either of us mention the cause of her death?"  
  
"Now that I think of it, I believe not."  
  
"It was an acute influenza.chills, purging, sweats, the whole bit."  
  
"I see.I am terribly sorry to hear it.it sounds as if she suffered."  
  
"Yes, of course. She died in his arms late that night. She spent her last hours holding his hand, very tightly, it was so small in his own." She felt like crying, but she was brightened by the even sadder gaze that held her own.  
  
"Elinor, perhaps you remember how she became ill?"  
  
"Oh, yes. You see, Marianne loved to go running so. Margaret will tell you- she often said 'Let's go running!' and we all said 'No, Marianne,' be- cause it was sure to rain."  
  
"It rained every time?"  
  
"Yes, every one. It was terrible. She nearly died, once." "Oh, how awful!" Elinor savored the tone of Sarah's raised cry.  
  
"Yes.she always said it wouldn't rain."  
  
"If you'll excuse me, Elinor.I think I tire of this walk."  
  
Elinor watched her hurry back toward the house, and she wiped a nostalgic tear from the corner of one of her blue eyes.  
  
Later that evening, Elinor's husband Edward requested that Sarah instead speak with him privately in the ballroom and decline yet another request for the pianoforte. He led her out there and closed the double doors.  
  
"Sarah, my dear, you are looking quite off color."  
  
"Oh, Edward, it is the news Elinor told me in the garden, of Marianne's horrific death." Much to her surprise, Edward laughed.  
  
"My dear, you must understand that Elinor hated and loved her sister at the same time while they were unwed, and she would likely spice the story when it is told in your presence, complete with a raised, tearful voice."  
  
Sarah did not understand. "Edward, please, why merely before me?"  
  
"She feels you are a threat to the life that Marianne ended up with, you see, after Willoughby left her for Lady Grey. Not that he didn't love her, I hear, but Marianne surely loved him still. She couldn't convey that compassion for the Colonel, mostly because he was more serious and older than she."  
  
"This is about Colonel Brandon?"  
  
"Yes, what else? Marianne could never give him what he needed, because he wasn't what she needed him to be. Yet now you see how no one speaks of his sorrow at her funeral-really, he didn't shed many tears."  
  
Sarah couldn't believe her ears. "But why would Elinor want to protect this? It appears as if neither was happy."  
  
"No.well, Marianne was a beautiful girl, but she was a wild one. Poor Colonel Brandon couldn't tame her, but Willoughby did. He had her like water in his hands, you see. Because of his foolish pride he lost her."  
  
Sarah nearly felt tears coming to her eyes. "So Brandon was unhappy?"  
  
"Well, he knew he would always be second best."  
  
Sarah had made up her mind now. "I don't want him to feel that way any longer, Edward."  
  
He said nothing for a minute, just looked at the floor sadly. She took this to be the end to their conversation and headed firmly for the door.  
  
He heard her footsteps and picked up his head. "Sarah."  
  
She paused.  
  
"Please, do not take my Elinor to be spiteful. She simply wants something that truthfully never was to be again. She has nothing against you."  
  
But Sarah was tired of listening to arguments. "We shall see."  
  
Author's Note: Take what Edward said to heart.I did not intend Elinor to be seen as the villian figure in this story (that would be Willoughby, of course). I'm sorry if she came off as such, I simply wanted to be convincing. 


	7. An Odd Proposal

"Who is this Marianne that is so important in your life?"  
  
"She is of little importance-simply an acquaintance."  
  
"Do not lie to me, Colonel. You are not very good at it."  
  
The argument continued like so in the parlor that evening.  
  
"Look, she was a woman I once loved who gave me nothing in return."  
  
"In return? Well, then, what could be left for me?"  
  
He sighed. "Why are you beautiful creatures so complicated?"  
  
"Don't flatter me, Brandon, I know better now."  
  
She stormed toward the door. "Elinor is right again."  
  
Sarah didn't show up for dinner that evening, and Brandon didn't let his aching hunger get to him until the meal was almost through. Mrs. Jennings and Margaret went all through the gardens looking for her upon his feverish request, and Elinor listened outside her door for the sound of crying. But nothing turned up, even when Mr. Jennings asked the servants where she'd been for the last day or so.  
  
At last, after two or three days, everyone else gave up the search. But Brandon, always the gentleman who constantly finds himself at fault, kept looking well into the later hours. He spent the night on the porch and woke up in the pouring rain. This reminded him further of the tortured Marianne.  
  
When the servants finally dragged him inside he wasn't feeling well. In fact, it appeared to be the same fever that had gripped his ex-bride's last life. The ladies worried about his chambers as he lay in bed for a week or so, and even Mr. Jennings quickly lost his spirits as the days continued to pass.  
  
About a month after Brandon had fallen into fever there was heard a knock on the door very early one morning, so early that it was still dark out. When the maid answered the rapping it was revealed to be a horseless woman outside, and as she took off her bonnet to let down her blonde hair the rain began to pick up into a slow, tired drizzle.  
  
"My! Mrs. Jennings!"  
  
The requested came at once and put a hand to her painted mouth.  
  
"My! Sarah, dear!-your bonnet. No wonder I do not recognize you, dear."  
  
Sarah merely smiled and looked around expectantly.  
  
"Oh, my dear.the Colonel." Sarah looked up, surprised. "Yes?" Her voice was filled with a certain longing at his very mention.  
  
"He is very sick-has been for a month now, is that right, Meredith? Yes, of course, a month." She dared not reveal the cause of his illness.  
  
"But-but he would feel much better if he saw you, sweet." Meredith, the maid, broke in suddenly. She looked nervously at her mistress.  
  
"Yes, yes, do come upstairs." Mrs. Jennings urged.  
  
When Sarah entered the room (to many exasperated coughs, none of which were the Colonel's, and quite a few raised eyebrows) most everyone else automatically cleared out. Mrs. Jennings closed the door and left them.  
  
Sarah put a gentle hand on her lover's sweaty forehead and kissed it. Slowly, very slowly, his beautiful gray eyes opened and he blinked in surprise, since he couldn't do much more in his current state. "S-S-"  
  
She put a finger to her lips. "Shh.just listen to the sound of my voice."  
  
He quieted immediately.  
  
"Bet you would like to know where I have been these long days."  
  
He nodded, but wished he could do more to show the extremity of his longing.  
  
"I have journeyed to London, and met my sisters and mother in Ireland. I understand you have a certain city home in Liverpool?"  
  
He nodded again, a bit stronger this time.  
  
"It is beautiful there. All my life, Brandon, I have lived in the country, and when I entered the city I was filled with an excitement to see it all."  
  
He took this in with a weak blink of the eyes.  
  
"Perhaps you do not miss it so, but.oh, I am so sorry. My dearest." Her smooth fingers stroked his forehead gently, and tears formed.  
  
"Do you still want me to stay here with the Jennings?"  
  
A smile spread over his face, the first in a month's time, and he nodded.  
  
"I know no one else wants you and I to continue seeing each other."  
  
The smile disappeared quicker than it had appeared.  
  
"But you need someone to take care of you, Brandon, my friend, my-my love, and I would be honored if you'd let me be that person."  
  
"What an odd proposal!" Mrs. Jennings squealed from the cracked door, as Elinor peeked curiously around the corner and shushed her with a hidden smile of contentment, Edward's arm around her waist.  
  
"She's not bending down." Margaret growled at her side.  
  
A moment later Brandon pulled something gold from his pocket beneath the covers, and presented it to her. "Now-we must-do this properly." He said. 


	8. Peach Roses In My Bouquet

Sarah couldn't believe Sunday had come so fast. Service at the small country chapel near his home had been cancelled for her wedding to Brandon. She breathed heavily as she faced him before the pastor, beaming upon them both. It was Brandon's second or third time, he believed. Yet something felt different here-it was like the light had returned brighter than ever to the Colonel's sad eyes.  
  
Sarah felt almost out of her body as she recited the sacred words, but she knew whom they were gestured toward and so she felt slightly better. As she ended her vows and the pastor gestured for Brandon to lift her veil at last, she felt a sweet breath of his air as he whispered, "I love you."  
  
Then her eyes were closed and she felt his soft lips on hers, sealing the deal with a perfect kiss. It was longer than she expected, but it wasn't like she didn't enjoy it, the tense silence of the crowd before they broke into applause. At last he let go of her, for now, and his hand moved to hers.  
  
Well, the pastor thought to himself, I have never seen a sweeter smile on that man in my entire career. And it was true. Sarah blissfully tossed her bouquet into the crowd, and Edward caught it, handing it to Elinor among laughter. As Elinor sniffed the sweet, plump peach-colored roses she couldn't help but wonder if her sister was watching her old marriage go to waste this day.  
  
She leaned back into his torso as their carriage rumbled on down the road, and she felt him sigh behind her. "So, love?" She smiled. "It was beautiful." "That it was." He paused. "And so are you." Her smile widened. "Thank you.for everything. You don't know what this all means to me." "No, no, m'lady, you don't know what it means to me. To be in love with you.it's.it's indescribable." She thought this over in her head. "Yes."  
  
Later that evening they stole away through the dark house and up the stairs to his bedroom. She could see he was eager to take her at last. She glanced around her at the beautiful estate before she followed him into the room and closed the door. His quiet, low voice comforted her as he placed a hand gently on her side and laid her down beside him. It had been such a long time, it seemed, since there had been a woman in his bed. "Sarah, my love.do you like it? This is your home now.forever.with me." He studied her face, her gentle features barely visible in the falling darkness. "Anything you could ever want." He brought the empty satchel from his pocket and showed it to her. She smiled. She knew what they both wanted. 


End file.
